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I’m taken back to a green room of sorts, the name Trickshot on the door, and while we’re in the back rooms behind where all the magic happens on stage, it’s still loud as the whole post-production thing happens (I guess).
I halt when Jaeyong turns and places his back against the wall, just outside the green room where the rest of Trickshot is eating with their staff, talking with management, going over upcoming schedules.
Jaeyong’s got his arms crossed over his chest, head leaned back against the wall so he’s looking at me through the slits of his eyes and it shouldn’t so intimidating—I’ve seen him in all kinds of embarrassing situations—but it is. It doesn’t help that he looks like every brooding hero in every single K-drama I’ve ever seen, pretending to be disinterested in the cute heroine.
I gulp, trying to get all the hair out of my face that was dislodged while I was having a good time in the middle of the crowd, and head over to him, heart in my mouth, stopping the words that just want to spill right on out.
What am I going to say?
WHAT AM I GOING TO SAY?!
How can I fix this?
Just...whatever it takes.
Okay, okay. I’ve got the overall game plan now I just have to put it in action.
I balk when Jaeyong lowers his head to gaze at me dead-on, stopping me right in my very spot with his stare alone.
“The others are inside,” he says, voice raspy, like he just sang his heart out (obviously). “Come with me,” he says, nudging his head to the opposite direction and I want to run to him, want to grab onto his hand and demand he drag me anywhere with him since I don’t intend on letting go for at least the next forty-eight hours, but I don’t do any of that, just ignore the curdling feeling in my belly, ignore the fact that it looks like he can’t bear to look at me and trudge on.
What does Maddie say? You gotta risk it to get the biscuit.
Well, shit, that’s good.
Jaeyong leads me to an empty room, the one labelled WARDROBE, and holds the door open for me, ushering me inside. I quickly duck inside the room, heart hammering in my chest, mouth completely dry.
Jaeyong closes the door behind us, muffling any kind of noise coming from the hall, ensconcing us in would-be silence if my stupid heart wasn’t pounding hard and loud enough for the entire peninsula to hear it.
I pull in deep, deep breaths, keep my distance, afraid of how much I want to touch him but knowing I haven’t earned it yet.
“Hi,” I try again, my own voice coming out in an almost squeak. You can do better, Raleigh. You can do a lot better. “Hi, Jaeyong.”
“Raleigh-ssi,” he says, putting that wall between us, while my heart squeezes at the sound of him using that term with me, the flirtatious term that doesn’t sound so flirtatious now. “Hello.”
Fuck, he’s not going to make this easy.
“You were so good out there,” I say, ignoring the tears that want to well in my eyes, the way I want to wrap him up in my arms and squeeze him tight to my chest, make him feel my heartbeat. “So, so good. The new song’s amazing, and it’s going to do amazing. I mean, you already know that, you guys won, obviously.” I scratch at the back of my neck, put some stray hairs behind my ears. “You look great, too.”
Jaeyong lets out a pained laugh, shakes his head, crosses his arms over his chest, radiating I don’t want you here.
So, I pull out the big guns, the only thing I can do to let him know how very sorry I am.
“Min Jaeyong,” I say, dropping my purse on the floor, cringing at the sound, but then remember that Jaeyong still has my phone. “I’m sorry for hurting you, so very sorry.” I get down on my knees, placing my hands on the ground so I’m on all fours, and press my forehead down on top of my hands, hoping I’m doing this right, hoping my bow is deep enough for the depths of my apology, hiding my face on the ground, ignoring the dust mites.
“What...what the fuck, Raleigh, get up!” His hand comes around my upper arm, but I’m not going to make it easy for him, either.
“Get up, get up. What the hell are you doing? You can’t do this, baby, please...”
If I twist my head just enough while keeping my forehead on top of my hands, still keeping my form in a full bow, I can see his knees are planted on the floor by my head, and now he’s kneeling too, hands banding around my upper arms.
God, we’re such a mess, such a mess, but we’re both here, and he’s touching me, holding me, his voice thick and cracking. “No, no, baby, please get up, please?”
How am I going to say no to that?
I let myself half rise, staying on my knees, putting my palms on my thighs and Jaeyong is right there, his big hand tracing along my forehead, wiping at a potential smudge there, his hand drifting down so the tips of his fingers trace along my features, his breathing laboured, his eyes getting wet as he looks at me.
“How are you still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” he asks, quietly.
“How did they not censor you when you came out on stage looking like a full-course meal? That’s what I wanna know,” I say, and smile when it breaks the tension and Jaeyong gives me a watery chuckle, not a full-blown laugh, but I’m going to take it as a win.
“Hi,” I say again, nuzzling my face into his palm like the overgrown Raleigh-cat I am. “Missed you.”
“I’m pretty sure I missed you more. I’m bigger than you.”
I laugh, shake my head. “I’m sorry for needing space, I’m sorry for being an asshole.”
Jaeyong’s quiet for a moment, his dark eyes glassy with unshed tears as he slowly keeps one palm on my cheek, and the other runs his hand down the length of my hair, humming under his breath. “I’m sorry for not listening.”
“Oh God,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “Don’t say that, I want to apologize, so you should let me.”
“No, no. We’re both in the wrong, weren’t we? We still are.”
I nod slowly, biting at my bottom lip. Jaeyong’s close now, closer than he was before, and all I really want (okay not all I want, but damn near close) is one of his signature hugs that make the world feel like a better place, that make me feel like I can survive.
“Me first, okay?”
Jaeyong nods, giving me my time in the spotlight.
“I...you know that I’m not with you because you’re an idol, right? Right?” Jaeyong nods after a moment, his hands dropping from me, leaving behind phantom warmth. I reach for his hands, and he lets me hold onto them, squeezing our palms and fingers together, placing them back on my thighs. My knees start to protest, but I just tell them to shut up.
This is important and I can’t blow it.
“I don’t care about your job, even if I’m incredibly grateful that it was basically the only way for me to find you again, to know that you were okay, that you’re out here, chasing your dreams, living your dreams. You’re amazing.” I smile when he starts blushing, the cutest man in the entire world and anyone who says otherwise can fight me in a battle to the death.
“You work so hard, and you give everything your all, even if I need to scale you back sometimes so you don’t hurt yourself. I just...I was afraid, really afraid of doing this with you. I know what’s happened to other idols that had secret girlfriends or boyfriends, and the netizens, they tore them apart. That’s not even mentioning the whole missing the crap out of you every single time you go on tour; I don’t know how I’m going to be like when that happens. But I guess I’m gonna be like a modern-day Persephone, six months in hell when you’re gone, and then I get six months with you, and I’m good with that. I love you and I want to stay by your side. Will you let me?”
Jaeyong doesn’t say anything.
Idiot, you’re good with it, but is he?
“Jaeyong? Could you say something please?” I wheeze, fisting the material of my shirt in my hands, holding on.
He runs a hand through his hair in stops and starts, annoyed that there’s so much product in it that part of it doesn’t move. Jaeyong looks at me, and there’s a flash there, like he actually wants to throttle me, which is fair. I drove us both crazy for a whole month and a half and it sucked really, really bad. I deserve to get yelled at, to be asked to perform some sort of incredible feat, drive a motorcycle over eighteen monster trucks.
I’ll do it, I will.
Maybe not the motorcycle thing ’cause I’m afraid of heights, but yeah, anything else.
“Raleigh,” Jaeyong breathes my name, exasperated and tired.
There’s sweat still glistening on his face, which has gotta be annoying that he can’t just start wiping it off, there’s a gentle process to removing all the stage makeup, and you have to be careful not to overly disturb it in case they have more things to do after this—radio show stops or interviews or something.
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, always asking my permission, and my heart bursts in a shower of confetti and I laugh wetly, shuffling closer on my knees until I’m wrapped tight around him, practically strangling his body for all I’m worth, and his mouth is pressed to the side of my head and he’s just murmuring my name over and over again.
“I’ll never forgive myself for losing this last month with you, I swear. I’m such an idiot,” I blubber, sniffing hard so I don’t get any snot on his beautiful clothes. “You were so good out there, I’m so happy I got to see you perform that song live. You’re seriously like another person on stage,” I say, voice muffled against his shoulder, holding on for dear life, smirking a little when I notice Jaeyong’s doing the same thing to me, too.
I run my hand down the soft hair at the back of his neck, frowning at the fluffiness of it. Ah, his poor hair, bleached to within an inch of its life. He has the superpower to look good in literally any hair colour though, and I’m jealous.
“I missed you so much. I’ve been a giant pain in the ass to the guys all this time.”
“Yeah?” I ask, sniffing again, laughing when he rocks us side to side a little, trying to soothe us both. My knees are starting to hurt, but really, I can die here, I have zero regrets.
“Hoseung-hyung has been livid for weeks, trying to get me to snap out of it, trying to get me to sleep and eat, but everything just felt awful all the time.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I was being stupid.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, and we finally let go of each other for Jaeyong to get vertical first and to help me up onto my feet, too. “Oh, you’re crying, too, and it’s breaking my heart,” he says, thumbing away my tears, leaning down to kiss me, finally, after what feels like years and years and years.
Oh, I’ve missed this.
I’ve missed him so much.
I’m never doing this again where we hang in this limbo. It sucks real bad.
“Jaeyong,” I mumble against his mouth, laughing a little when it gets a little frenzied, when he keeps kissing me all over my face, mapping my features with kisses, down to my jaw, to the sides of my throat, finally wrapping his arms around me tight, tight and sticking his face into the crook of my neck, bending over just slightly so that we end up fitting right like this.
I run my hand down his broad back, ignoring the tackiness of his shirt from all the sweat—my man worked hard out there, and I’m not gonna get squeamish now.
“When do you have to leave?” I ask, looking over his hulking shoulder at the door, waiting for some innocent bystander to catch us in this embrace and for it to be all over the internet in nanoseconds because that’s just the way the cookie seems to crumble. No one comes in though, and the door remains closed, and the increasing fear of being found out slowly drains out of my body as Jaeyong holds me tightly to him.
“We’re all going back to the dorm tonight,” he says, the giant apartment they all have together in Gangnam, where they all live together during the more hectic schedules. “But I’m going to beg off, and I’ll meet them at the company building early tomorrow morning. I’m so tired.”
I know underneath all his makeup, Jaeyong looks like shit, but hopefully the epic cuddle session I have planned will start to fix all that, with Haneul on one side and me on the other.
“How about I meet you at your apartment? I’m sure your mom’s back by now—she totally abandoned me by the way...”
Jaeyong snickers, standing upright, only to press his mouth to my forehead, breathing in the scent of my hair.
How could I have possibly thought being without him in my life was a good idea? How?
Some Jaeyong is better than no Jaeyong, and I have to remember that.
“Of course she did. I found it weird that she wanted to show up, anyway. She gets annoyed when we win all the time.”
I glance at him, aghast. “She’s your mom! How can she get annoyed?”
Jaeyong shrugs, a tired smile along his lips that I want to kiss better. “She likes it when underdogs win.”
“Well...you used to be underdogs, back in the day...” I hedge but wave it away. “Is it okay if I go back to your apartment? I’ll get us something to eat and something warm to drink, and then I’m going to cuddle you so hard you’re going to sleep like fifteen hours and feel really refreshed tomorrow, I promise.” I hold up my pinky finger to swear with him.
He hooks our pinkies together, then we stamp it closed, thumbs pressing against one another to seal the deal.
“Yeah, I’d like that. I should be done here in an hour or so. The pass code’s your birthday.”
My mouth hangs open, and I start choking on the very air I am breathing. “What? What?! That’s so easy to find out! You better change it when we get back.”
“Baby, nobody knows about you, and I’m going to do my very best to make it so that no one does until one day we’re gonna randomly show up married and that’s it.”
I slap weakly at his shoulder, unwilling to tell him that the very thought of marrying makes me weak in the knees.
I guess we were always meant to end up here...to be at this point together.
We just had to wait a long time for it to happen.
And now we’re here.
We’re here, together, right where we belong.
“I mean...when you feel ready, and when I feel ready, you know I’m going to say yes, right?”
Jaeyong smiles, teeth and all, and he’s never been more beautiful, honestly, shining bright like a star. “Yeah, I hope so. But not yet.”
I nod. “Not just yet. Go, go get changed, do what you have to do, and I’ll meet you at your place. Let me know when to order food and what you can eat,” I say, bringing my hands up to squeeze around his ribs. Yup, it’s promotion time and his fitness level is on the up and up, so no spicy rice cakes for us.
“Okay, okay, I’m going. But seriously, I just want to stand here and look at your face a little longer,” he says, swooping down to kiss my lax mouth again, making me laugh.
“Yah, that’s from every single romantic drama ever written. Wow. Look at you, stealing lines from all over the place.” I smile at him, kissing one dimple and then the other, the both of them prominent now with all the smiling he’s doing, smiles that I put there, finally.
Yes!
“Here’s your phone. I’ll see you later. Say hi to my mom.”
I snort. “You can say hi to her yourself, I’m sure she’s gonna be at your apartment with Haneul.”
Jaeyong shakes his head. “If I know my mom, she orchestrated all this and is halfway back to Daejeon right now.”
“What? No! Go, go, I’ll be waiting for you at home. Let me call your mom and thank her. Jesus Christ, she’s so smart, I love her to pieces,” I blabber, getting caught up in scrolling through my phone when Jaeyong lifts my chin with a finger and kisses me, really kisses me this time, sweet and slow, just like he’s reacquainting himself with the feel of my mouth on his.
Oh God, I missed this. I missed this!
When we pull back, we’re both breathing a little harder now, and Jaeyong’s mouth is a little red, a little puffier.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, then fumble out, “I love you, Min Jaeyong.” And bolt, like a scaredy-cat. I wasn’t told I was loved often by the people who counted, it’s weird for me to say it out loud, to use those three words that can be just as loud as a lie.
Jaeyong lets me go, and I glance into the hall, opening the door the slimmest of cracks to accommodate my body, and when the coast is clear, I make a break for it, feigning ignorance when a staff member asks me questions, and I just talk back to him in French (you’d be surprised how many Seoulites speak beautiful English), pretending to not understand.
I’m shown to the exit doors without security getting involved and walk out of the building, looking up my bus stop and how far it is to walk to the next one, suddenly restless. It’d be nice to have a little bit more privacy from strangers on a bus when I make my phone call anyway, so I decide to hoof it to the next bus stop, enjoying the warmer air, the scent of spring and oncoming rain.
I dial Mrs. Min as I walk. “Eomeonim?”
“Please tell me that the two of you made up and you’re calling to thank me.”
I start laughing like a maniac, the stress of the whole ordeal spilling out in manic giggles that I have to clap my hand over my mouth to stop, until they finally turn into tears of relief.
“Eomeonim, he forgave me for being stupid.”
“Of course he forgave you! Jaeyong’s my son! He’s not an idiot even if he didn’t go to school!”
“I just wanted to say thank you, so very much, for helping me, for bringing me to the broadcast. Thank you. I don’t know what to do, what to give you to express my gratitude.”
“Well, there is one thing...”
I gulp down cool, evening air and sprint across a crosswalk to make the light. “Yes? Tell me, anything...”
“Well, not right now, but maybe in three years, when Jaeyong’s contract is up.”
I nod, stopping when I realize she can’t see me. God, why do I do that? “Sure, anything. Please tell me and I’ll do it.”
“I would like a granddaughter.” Fuck, she says it so matter-of-factly that I feel the request (command) engrave itself on my very DNA.
All right, so I’m giving birth to a girl first, in three years’ time. All right, I can do that.
“Eomeonim!” I gasp, then apologize to the people around me since I was being a super-loud foreigner. “Really? That’s what you want?”
“If you both want children in your lives, then yes. I would love to be a grandmother.”
“Uh, well, I have to talk to Jaeyong, but if everything goes well, then yes, I would like that, too.”
Mrs. Min sniffs, proud of herself. “Where are you now? Are you going back to Jaeyong’s apartment?”
“Yes, I’m on my way there actually, just heading to the bus stop. Jaeyong’s going to meet us there.”
“Oh, I’m not there, sweetheart. Haneul and I are headed back home to my husband, to tell him all about the news. He’s probably watching that silly drama, but it makes him happy and I like to watch him react to the unnecessary drama more often than not.”
“I was going to order us food...” I mumble, disappointed. I want to wrap Mrs. Min up in a hug and squeeze her tight and let her know how much she means to me, even if I can’t actually say the words. Should I settle for writing the words, then?
Yeah, yeah, I might do that.
“Nonsense, go be with Jaeyong. And call me tomorrow. I always wanted a daughter that I could call every day.”
“Yes, yes, I will!” I squeak, swiping my bus pass as I get onto the bus and head towards the back, perusing the passengers to make sure no one else absolutely needs the seat.
I’m tired, exhausted, and the night’s just getting started.
